


the thrill of under me you

by seascrypt



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21602599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seascrypt/pseuds/seascrypt
Summary: Felix made the prettiest sound, desperate and wanting. Dimitri was far from cruel, especially in matters of pleasure, but he would be the first to admit that he enjoyed the heady privilege of having Felix kept beneath him, allowing him to do little butfeel. And Felix, although he would be mortified to admit it, loved that Dimitri gave him this—space to unravel, without the pressure of being seen.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 12
Kudos: 156





	the thrill of under me you

_i like to feel the spine_   
_of your body and its bones,and the trembling_   
_-firm-smooth ness and which i will_   
_again and again and again_   
_kiss_

—e. e. cummings

*

Felix wasn’t sure how he ended up like this. 

He remembered how it started—as it usually did, with Dimitri returning to their shared bedroom late, policy scrolls in hand, distracted until depositing them on the vanity table, apologetic for a moment after—and he knew how it ended: here, with Felix pinned to their bed, face pressed against the mattress, Dimitri’s body covering his. 

But how it arrived to this point? A mystery. There were clues though, a trail that he could follow, were his mind less scattered. If he’d had clarity of thought, he would have recalled the way Dimitri had paused, mid-apology, catching sight of Felix undoing his hair through the mirror. With the war over and the days colder, Felix had allowed his hair to grow past his shoulders and let it fall plaited down his back. Dimitri, he had learned through spluttered conversation, was enamored with the length. 

He would have recalled, too, the way Dimitri’s lips had parted, then curled into a thoughtful smile. The way he had shed his cloak, his gloves, his boots, and stepped over to the bed where Felix was seated. How he had murmured, “May I,” not a question but an invitation to himself—one he allowed only after years of understanding and trust—and carefully pulled apart Felix’s braid. How his right hand nested at the nape of Felix’s neck, how his left ran through dark waves of hair. 

And of course, he would have recalled the way Dimitri leaned in, the way he murmured wickedly in Felix’s ear and watched him turn red, knowing that his words would have that effect—the _villain_. 

As it was, Felix wasn’t in the frame of mind to ponder anything. His focus was elsewhere, primarily on the heat from Dimitri's hands, one curled around his waist, the other, his cock. He was trapped in place, Dimitri flush against his back, holding him down. In any other situation, Felix would have felt claustrophobic; but here, behind closed doors, with only Dimitri as witness, he was secure. Grounded insomuch as one could be, climbing to the pinnacle of their pleasure.

“So pretty, Felix,” said Dimitri against his ear, half murmur, half shaky breath. “My Felix.”

Some part of Felix wanted to reply with affirmation, wanted to tell Dimitri _yours, yes, yours_ , but all that part managed was a cracked whine. Dimitri rewarded the sound with a soft groan of his own, and a firm stroke, which had Felix struggling forward to thrust in his grip. The hand at his waist kept him in place. Felix had the sudden urge to bite it.

“Patience,” Dimitri soothed, and offered him a twist of the hand.

“I’ve never—” Felix’s words were strangled in his throat by a clever stroke, and another, and a third that had him groaning. “—had much.”

“Never too late to learn,” replied Dimitri.

He was going to kill him, Felix thought with sudden clarity; he was going to end the Blaiddyd bloodline over teasing, and he would blame it on the heat that was coursing through him, one part irritation, two parts white hot desire.

“But maybe tonight isn’t the time for that,” Dimitri continued. He traced the shell of Felix's ear with his teeth, biting down with mild pressure. “What say you, Felix?”

Felix answered him with a vexed call of his name. He twisted his arm to reach behind him and urge Dimitri closer. Dimitri complied, pliant to this whim. He let go of Felix’s waist to lace a hand through Felix's hair, giving it one firm tug—and drawing a low whine from Felix, the kind that had Dimitri shuddering—before brushing it all over a shoulder. Bared before him, it was all too tempting to lean in and press kisses against Felix’s neck. He indulged himself.

“All mine,” Dimitri murmured hotly into Felix's skin.

He resumed stroking Felix’s cock, steadily now. Felix moaned, moving his arm to grip Dimitri’s thigh and rocking into his touch. Dimitri brought his free hand back to Felix’s hip, keeping him still with a bruising grip. Again, Felix made the prettiest sound, desperate and wanting. Dimitri was far from cruel, especially in matters of pleasure, but he would be the first to admit that he enjoyed the heady privilege of having Felix kept beneath him, allowing him to do little but _feel_. And Felix, although he would be mortified to admit it, loved that Dimitri gave him this—space to unravel, without the pressure of being seen.

“Dimitri,” gasped Felix, squirming when Dimitri thumbed over the head of his cock.

“Yes?” he said, and when Felix responded only with a fevered whine, added: “Tell me what you’d like, Felix. What would you have me do?”

“Please,” Felix managed, lost, " _please_. I—I want—”

“Tell me,” Dimitri demanded. “What do you need, Felix?”

“You,” said Felix, his eyes brimming with tears. “Dimitri, I want—let me come.”

Dimitri burned, set alight by Felix's words. He muffled his moan by pressing it into Felix's shoulder. He twisted his hand around Felix’s length, felt it throb at his touch. How could he deny Felix anything? When he let down his guard, just for him?

“Oh, Felix,” he breathed, reverently. “You’re so—so good for me. Let go, Felix. I have you.”

He needed only stroke twice more before Felix shuddered and came with a whimper. Felix’s fight had been in waiting for his liege’s—his love’s—order, not in obeying it. Dimitri coaxed him through his peak with confident, then gentle, touches; and when Felix’s strength slipped from his limbs, Dimitri caught him around the waist and lowered him down, decorating his spine with kisses along the way.

Felix allowed himself a moment to catch his breath, to bring his heartbeat back to a normal pace, before shifting to his side and pulling Dimitri in for a kiss. Dimitri leaned in easily, ran his tongue along the seam of Felix’s lips and smiled when Felix opened for him. They luxuriated in each other for a time. 

Eventually, Dimitri pulled away. He hovered above Felix, propped up by an arm, and took in the sight of him. A lovely, fading sunset flush had colored his face, his ears, the hollow of his neck. His hair, mussed, pooled around him, long and dark. Felix’s eyes narrowed at his silence, half questioning, half daring Dimitri to say what was on his mind, which Felix had _no_ doubt would be embarrassing. 

“You really are beautiful, Felix,” said Dimitri. 

Felix, turned a hell-shade of red, said, “Stop.” 

“I mean it,” Dimitri continued, smiling down at him and raising a hand to delicately knuckle at Felix’s cheekbone. “Everything about you is; your hair, especially—”

“I,” Felix said, suddenly finding the energy to rise, and the strength to shove Dimitri against the bed covers, “am going to end you.” 

“And the sound of your voice, Felix, when you’re—”

Dimitri laughed into Felix’s interrupting kiss, but had no qualms returning it. His hands, as ever, found their place in Felix’s soft strands, which fell around them like a silky curtain. When Felix pulled away, he leveled Dimitri with a _look_ —molten, predatory. Dimitri couldn't help the pink that streaked down from his face to his chest. 

“Just remember,” Felix muttered, delivering another sharp nip to Dimitri’s lower lip. “Turnabout is fair play.” 

**Author's Note:**

> a venn diagram: one circle reads "seascrypt's comfort zone," and the other, "this fic." the two circles do not overlap. (in other words: thanks for reading this experiment.)


End file.
